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Diary of a Ghetto Priest: Whatever You Ask….

“It will be given to you! I will do it! That the Father may be glorified in His Son, if you ask anything I my name I will do it.” (John 14, 13-14, 16:23)

My dream dear Father in heaven is this, expressed in words and melodies 23 years ago; “I dream”

I DREAM

I dream of an island of peace and love

I dream of a country of brotherhood

I dream that the gifts of

each man shall be used for us all;

And we’ll struggle and work,

and we’ll labour and sweat;

And we’ll lift, we’ll build,

till we raise to the heavens

a city of God. I dream, I dream

I dream of a nation of love and truth

I dream of a country where justice rules

I dream of a people of faith,

who are brave, who are strong,

who will work unto death,

build a future of hope;

and we live, we work,

we lay down our lives

for the city of our God.

I dream, I dream.

Oh Lord, how much I love my island, how much I desire to see justice and mercy in our land. It can only happen Lord by the power of God, and our love of you and our poor fellowmen. It is the impossible dream that must be dreamed by all of us, Jamaicans.

Is it too idyllic? Yes it is. But without dreams there is nothing to live for. If we would be selfless, if we would make sacrifices and service above all to be our way of life. We must be ready to live and die for others especially the outcasts – the poorest of people and the greatest of sinners; if we could give of what we got, and forgive those who have sinned against us. If there is forgiveness for those who hurt us; if we could stop condemning other people despite their wrongs; if we could forgive! Forgive! Forgive! As the Lord says, “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” When we are hurt by others, the pain passed on from one to the other is so terrible especially in the case of those who love us or people whom we love.

There are so many loveless people we encounter each day. There are so many forgotten ones! They crawl in the streets, they dig through the garbage, they are abandoned in the hospitals for months. They have no food, not a glass of water, no clothes, no bed, no house, no loved ones. They weep, they are hungry, they are forgotten! Poor people! There are so many! What will we do? How will they survive?

Anxiety, fear, terror! They don’t belong to anyone or anywhere, they exist alone. There is no one to turn to for food, clothing, a shower, to go to the toilet.

Life is so harsh! Everybody going on their own, everybody so busy. As they go about, busy brusquely. Our brothers and sisters live and die in the street. Dogs lick their sores.

We send forth MOP Brothers in the name of Jesus Christ. They take in the forgotten ones, our brothers and sisters in the street who have lost their way. May be they sinned, maybe they were weak-willed, maybe they were apathetic. But they are in pain, such great pain. We must love them, in the name of Jesus Christ. “Brother, Brother, I am so hungry. Are you an angel? Take me in your arms.”

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The Missionaries of the Poor (M.O.P.) is an international monastic order of Brothers dedicated to "Joyful Service with Christ on the Cross" to serve the poorest of the poor. The order was started in 1981 by Father Richard Ho Lung and has now grown to